The Wheel Turns...

Berek - Beltane Eve

It would seem that we must leave the peaceful village of my youth, against my wishes and will. The eve before the Beltane festival has been struck through with tragedy, strangers having come to the village to tell us that these troubles, while not our doing, are due to our presence and a hated foe who would see each of us destroyed. Why is beyond me, and has not yet been explained, but I will not bring more destruction upon the village.

Sweet Rose, with whom I was going to dance tomorrow, has been told that I will return in three weeks or not at all. If this trouble cannot be solved by then, then I do not believe it will be solved and there may be no return. Even should I return in years hence I would rather than she mourns me and finds happiness elsewhere rather than awaits a return I cannot promise.

It is a strange pack with whom we seem to be travelling. A channeler of great power – I have seen her recover the near-dead with my own eyes, a guard of hers who fought the most mysterious of the monsters which attacked last night, and a gleeman whom Rodrick seems to be enraptured by, almost to the point of worship. His frivolity and wanderlust will be a danger to us all, the tragedy that struck barely seemed to touch him.

We also take Prospero, of which I am glad as it was his work which helped seal my hand when my fingers were lost. Jonah is also with us, and with his skill with an axe and my own strength with a hammer I see little reason for great fear of anything we may come across. Finally of course Nalei, the scolding busy-body comes with us. I know that she believes she is acting for the best when she scolds, but she never seems to realise that such things simply encourage Rodrick, Prospero and Jonah, and she is incapable of realising that I am rarely a party to their plans and includes me in her petty scolding. It is something to do with being the apprentice of the Wisdom I suppose, a great woman surely, but while her advice is essential when requested it becomes little more than an irritation when offered constantly in situations where it is not warranted.

The smithy is burned – ash and charred wood only remains, but I have a pack for travelling and a hammer, and do not fear what lies ahead. What may happen behind us, to those we leave in the village, terrifies me but as I said before, better that Rose thinks I am dead if I do not return rather than becomes an old maid. I suspect that our companions are misleading me, and this will not be a short task. Their hesitation when giving a time was telling, and I despair of returning.